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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155575">A Playful Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheeselordAsh/pseuds/CheeselordAsh'>CheeselordAsh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other, Sin Eater Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:16:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheeselordAsh/pseuds/CheeselordAsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A new party of adventurers is tasked with defeating Ludus, the last of the Lightwardens in Norvrandt, by the revered and respected Master Matoya.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alphinaud Leveilleur/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. As It Always Did</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/staarcade/gifts">staarcade</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It began as it always did, with our dearest friend becoming voluntarily embroiled in the latest world-ending conflict. Only this time, the world had technically already ended.</p>
<p>The First, a shard, a reflection of our world; it had fallen a century ago to what they called the Flood. The entire star was awash with light aether, running rampant, and corrupting any it came in contact with.</p>
<p>These light-corrupted beings, Sin Eaters, subsisted off of consuming the living aether of other creatures and transforming them as well. Even killing them did little, since the aether would eventually reconstitute into another Sin Eater.</p>
<p>Hope sprang when we realized that he could hold an unnatural amount of light aether in his soul. As one of Hydaelyn's chosen, possessing Her blessing, our friend was capable of housing a thousand thousand individual Sin Eaters' worth of light.</p>
<p>And so we sought out the Lightwardens; monstrously powerful beings akin to Primals, whose very presence held the land they inhabited in unnatural sunlight. There were five, in all. Five Lightwardens, each holding sway over a horde of Sin Eater minions.</p>
<p>The first, Philia, we found near the Crystarium. Our first success. Our first failure. We won with almost laughable ease, the beast's clumsy flailing and rage no match for our friend's expert marksmanship and determination. They absorbed the fallen warden's primordial Light, and we gave it no second thought. </p>
<p>The second Lightwarden was a bit more difficult. The faerie queen, Titania, had become corrupt. The idea of a powerful fae in possession of the overwhelming might of a Lightwarden set me atremble in my boots, I'm not ashamed to admit. We were all afraid. And yet, again thanks to our friend, we saw it through.</p>
<p>The third was Eros, who we fought in the Ravel.  What a strange fight this was. A chimera, a misbegotten mishmash of beast and voidsent and Sin Eater, tested our teamwork to it's utmost. The monster's claws would have made short work of most of us had it not been for Thancred keeping its attention. Once more, it was our dear friend's bow and my own not inconsiderable skill with black magic that brought it down.</p>
<p>It was here that we were given cause for concern. The first time we realized that maybe, maybe this much Light might be too much, even for our friend. It was the timely intervention of our ally Ryne, the then-Oracle of Light, that prevented them from turning. We assumed that that would be the end of that, and moved on.</p>
<p>What fools we were. </p>
<p>Defeating the fourth Lightwarden, buried deep in a forgotten cavern called Malikah's Well, was no small feat. The creature Storge could almost have been called beautiful, had it not been hellsbent on destroying all we know and hold dear. It fought with trickery and deceit, using strange, distorted reflections that mimicked its attacks in an attempt to catch us off-guard. We nearly fell, but emerged victorious. Still riding the ephemeral high of our victory, we immediately made for Eulmore to confront the final Lightwarden: the man Vauthry, leader of Eulmore, and one who had been a thorn in our side for months.</p>
<p>I will not detail here the confrontation, nor the nigh-impossible endeavor that led to the construction of the enormous Talos that even now still grips the remnants of Mt. Gulg. That story is told elsewhere, and it is not relevant to this story. </p>
<p>No, it is what happened after the death of Vauthry-turned-Innocence, that final Light-cursed beast, that is relevant. </p>
<p>You see, even with Ryne's intervention, the primordial Flood of Light that consumed the world could not be contained inside a single soul. Not even a soul as powerful and Blessed as our dearest friend's. They began to turn, then and there, and were it not for the confusion that occurred thereafter with the Crystal Exarch (G'raha Tia, you fool) and Emet-Selch, the Ascian, I fear our end would have come for us then.</p>
<p>Instead, it came for us away from prying eyes, in the ruins of the city of Amaurot conjured by the Ascian's creation magic. We had originally gone there to confront Emet-Selch and rescue G'raha Tia, who he had shot and stolen away from us while we were desperately attending to our dearest friend's affliction. We played along with his twisted games, facing horror after horror supposedly conjured from his peoples' history, and their eventual end. We were exhausted, but not defeated. We were determined to rescue our friend and ally, and to put an end to Emet-Selch's sickening charade.</p>
<p>By the time we noticed the ethereal feathered cocoon engulfing Ophelia's mortal shell, they were already halfway turned. When it finally cracked, much to Emet-Selch's malicious glee, the beast that emerged towered over us. A full twenty yalms in height, the Lightwarden that had once been our dearest friend roared its pain and anger to the heavens themselves. Its lower body reminded me of an armor-clad behemoth, though its tail was closer to that of the serpent Primal, Leviathan. Wings adorned both its tail and it's back, with a blazing halo of Light lying crooked atop its almost man-like brow, a depraved mockery of the hat worn by the warrior it once was. It moved with a speed that belied its monstrous size, and in a single, brutal thrust of its Light-clad claws, the Ascian dissipated into wisps of Dark aether.</p>
<p>We were stunned. Completely unable to comprehend that Ophelia, our Warrior of Light, our beloved friend had turned. This must be some cruel joke, surely, we thought. Alphinaud even reached out, the Miqo'te's name on his lips. Were it not for Alisaie's quick reaction time, her brother would not have survived. It cost her an arm, but a price she'd pay a hundred times over, if asked. Another roar, and the beast turned its full attention on us.</p>
<p>We ran. There were no thoughts of saving them, no attempts to reason with what was once our friend. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn scattered, and breathed a collective sigh of relief when the beast did not pursue.</p>
<p>Until, with a sound like shattering glass, it unfurled its wings. So wide and broad that they should have completely blotted out all other light, except that the wings were nearly skeletal. No feathers, no membrane between them, just two long boney protrusions emerging from its shoulders. If I had been paying attention, if I had remembered what it was our dear friend was, that all Sin Eaters retain hints of the men and women they once were... Maybe Urianger would still be here.</p>
<p>Before I realized that it was not just wings, but the pieces of a bow, cobbled together from its own twisted bones forced to bloom from its body like vines, the Lightwarden had already strung it. A glimmering cacophony of colors ran from the tip of one jagged bone to another, forming a string of aether that it drew back with an almost mocking casualness. It released it, and a screeching volley of Light-imbued arrows rained from the heavens above us. Urianger was slain almost instantly, his body pinned to the stones by a dozen sizzling impacts. I took several blows to my side, which left me near crippled. The rest of us, even the injured Alisaie, escaped the worst of it, thankfully. In our fear, we left the beast in the depths of Amaurot, locked under the waves once the Bismarck of the First allowed them to fall.</p>
<p>And there they remain. Our dearest friend, and now deepest shame. The Lightwarden Ludus lies locked within a prison of Light and Water, and none who have tried have been able to set them free from their torment. So tell me, you who would call yourselves Warriors of Darkness. Do you think yourself capable of slaying your predecessor?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dragon's Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The would-be Warriors of Darkness venture towards the depths of Amaurot, where they hope to find and slay the mighty Lightwarden, Ludus.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The entrance to the hidden city was far more unassuming than Atrin had expected. Amaurot was supposed to be a colossal ruin, a sprawling testament to the former glory of the Amaurotine race. Conjured by the creation magic of Emet-Selch, now known to be Hades, it was supposed to be the staging ground for the final battle between the former Warrior of Light and the Ascian.</p>
<p>Instead, it became a tomb, and a prison. The Warrior of Light turned in that dark place, becoming the mightiest Sin Eater, the greatest Lightwarden in the history of the First, Ludus. After claiming the life of the Astrologian Urianger, the remainder of the scattered Scions returned to the surface and locked the beast away beneath the waves using the power of Bismarck.</p>
<p>Except now, we'd unlocked the door. We stood at the precipice of the cave leading ever downward, where Amaurot awaits. We couldn't be certain that the beast hadn't taken the time to recreate the surroundings to suit them, so we came prepared for all manner of encounters and traps. If the creature's previous life were any indication, we could expect plenty of ranged assaults and deceitful tactics.</p>
<p>Atrin spared the rest of his party a glance; they'd been adventuring together for a couple of years now, and he trusted them all with his life. He was a warrior, and his two childhood friends, Jelaine and Dimitri, were black and white mages respectively. The bard Nalya had joined them in Tomra, a young mystel woman spending time learning about the dwarves and their culture.</p>
<p>The final member of their party, Atrin hadn't even wanted to come along. He towered over the rest of them, his segmented armor covered in wicked-looking spines, the perfect complement to his brusque and incredibly sharp-tongued personality. A dragoon, the Elf carried a spear crafted of shards taken from the very tower in the center of the Crystarium, with the Guard Captain's blessing.</p>
<p>Ever since the Exarch had fallen, there in Amaurot, she had done her best to keep the city safe. As far as Atrin was concerned, she had done an admirable job. </p>
<p>Still, she did seem to go out of her way to do whatever the remnants of that secret society asked of her. So when this boon was asked of her by the dragoon and his sibling, she relented, despite her original misgivings.</p>
<p>To his chagrin, the dragoon had taken an immediate dislike to Nalya. Whether it was her carefree attitude, her penchant for getting sidetracked with helping others, or just the fact that she was a bard, much like his fallen friend, Atrin didn't know. What he did know was that the two of them had nearly come to blows more often than he'd care to remember over the course of the last several weeks, as they made their way to their destination.</p>
<p>"They know we're here," the Elf muttered. "They're watching us even now."</p>
<p>A dark chill sped down Atrin's spine.</p>
<p>"They? Who is they? I thought there was but one beast, the Lightwarden. Is there more than one? You should have-"</p>
<p>"They preferred being referred to as they and them." The dragoon cut Atrin off, deadpan. "They felt the trappings of such silly things as gender to be superfluous, and preferred not to be pigeonholed by such old-fashioned ideas."</p>
<p>Atrin remained silent, knowing that anything related to the former Warrior of Light tended to be a bit of a hot button issue when this man was involved. Unfortunately, Nalya had yet to learn that lesson, it seemed.</p>
<p>"That's absurd. He was a Mystel, was he n--" The bard got no further, for a full ten ilms of the Elf's three yalm long spear lay buried in the earth a hair's breadth away from where they were sprawled on the ground. Another fulm higher, and it would have passed directly between the woman's lips.</p>
<p>"It would be in your best... interest... to stop talking." Alphinaud Leveilleur snarled through gritted teeth, his eyes boring a hole in the bard's from behind his sinister helm.</p>
<p>Nalya didn't dare respond. Or breathe, for that matter. She simply lay there, pinned by that wicked stare; no one could blame her. Anyone would quail in the face of those eerie pink eyes, the sclera surrounding them as black as an empty night sky.</p>
<p>"That's enough." Atrin needed to nip this in the bud. "Need I remind you all that we lay on the edge of this Lightwarden's territory? Every moment we spend bickering amongst ourselves is another moment the beast has to prepare for us. Ludus would see us dead, and I for one am not particularly enthused with the idea of making their job easier for them."</p>
<p>Almost imperceptibly, Alphinaud's shoulders lost some of the tension in them, and the Elf gave Atrin a small nod, grateful.</p>
<p>"You're correct. We should break camp and move further in. The faster we progress, the less of a welcoming committee we'll have when we reach the bottom. Come."</p>
<p>Atrin watched the dragoon shoulder his spear, and begin walking into the cave. He shouldered his axe and exhaled shakily, the crisis averted for now. He jerked his head to the rest of the party, and followed.</p>
<p>Far below, in the great city's ruin, their quarry awaited.</p>
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